The Forgotten Child. D. E. White

that was far too close, and then another car came the other way and nearly hit us. I had to go on the verge and …’

      ‘It’s okay, Mrs Kendal, we’ve read your statement,’ DC Marriot told her, cutting her off mid-sentence. ‘We can talk about that later. For now, we just have a few more questions.’

      Holly nodded, uneasily, her eyes still on the man. They didn’t care. They wanted to know about the other boy. Well, that was okay, because so did she.

      DI Harper nodded. He stood next to the window, arms folded. Did he recognise her as she did him? Of course, she was Holly Kendal now instead of Holly Hughes, but surely he must know. And wasn’t it odd that a DI would come for a chat with a car crash victim? But it was a car crash with a twist, and she figured he knew all right, and he was as curious as hell.

      His grey eyes were faded now, sunk deeper under bushy grey brows, but he still had that aura of energy, alertness, and that distinctive voice. Her mum had always said he was clever for a copper. She had instructed both her children to keep away from the police who came snooping around their family home. But that was in the past, and with a dad like Holly’s it was no wonder her mum had been cautious. She could never have known that this ‘clever’ copper would be the one who investigated her own death. Investigated, but never bloody found out who did it. Holly switched her thoughts quickly back to the present. It was like being dragged through a mud bath, the past swilling over her, sticking in patches, reminding her she might have walked away but she could never completely escape.

      ‘Did you find out anything about the other boy?’ Holly asked tentatively now. She passed her tongue nervously over sore lips.

      It was the woman who answered. Her voice was sharp and what Holly’s Aunt Lydia would certainly call a bit posh. ‘No. As I’m sure you’ve been told he is still in a critical condition.’

      Holly was still struggling to get her head around the accident, let alone the fact she had, somewhere between leaving the road and waking up in the woods, acquired another child. Someone had given her a child. Now this man, with his cool grey eyes and air of officialdom, was back in her life, and suddenly, as other memories stirred it was all she could do to prevent herself from bursting into tears. The DI still hadn’t met her eyes. ‘What about the driver who was behind me, or the idiot in the van who drove right at us?’ she asked quickly.

      DI Harper exchanged a quick look with his colleague. ‘Obviously there are no cameras after the Mill Road turn-off, and several vehicles followed you off at Junction 10, but we have no way of telling if any of them took the first exit, as you did. There is also the possibility that the driver behind you joined Mill Road later on, from either Hill Lane or Silver Lane. I do appreciate it must have been hard, but the vague description you gave us of both vehicles doesn’t give us much to go on.’

      ‘It was dark, and pouring with rain, and I was afraid I was about to be carjacked. You try memorising details in that situation,’ she shot back at him, a flare of confidence returning. The other police officer raised her eyebrows at this show of anger, but said nothing.

      ‘I’m not trying to insult your intelligence, I’m just telling you we are examining every possibility,’ he said. There was a flash of something that might have been amusement in his grey eyes, before his expression returned its usual sombre mask.

      He was still fucking annoying, Holly thought, remembering suddenly that he inserted the word ‘possibility’ into just about every sentence. Nothing was ever ‘confirmed’, or ‘definite’, with him.

      ‘Moving on, you already mentioned when you were interviewed last night that you have no idea how this other boy came to be in your car. We have checked he doesn’t match the description of any missing children in the local area, but we are circulating his details further afield. Obviously a missing child generates an extensive search operation and we are working in close contact with our neighbouring forces.’ DC Marriot was scrolling through her iPad. ‘We did receive another call to the ambulance service at 17.22. It was a male caller who said he had just driven past a crashed car. He gave your location, but said he didn’t know how many people were involved. He then rang off. The phone number was untraceable.’

      ‘You think that was the driver behind me?’ Holly said, confusion making her brain heavy, her thoughts sluggish.

      DI Harper frowned. ‘At this stage we aren’t sure. Your call came in at 17.31. It is a possibility that the initial caller wasn’t involved at all. Do you recall anything unusual about the afternoon? Anyone who might have been at your son’s rugby game who wasn’t usually there? Or perhaps someone who might have spoken to you when you stopped for petrol?’

      ‘No! Do you think I haven’t been going over and over this all night? I have no idea how that child came to be in my car and, to be honest, it hasn’t been the best of nights. I’m sure you can understand that.’ She was glaring at the DI now, willing him to react, but he kept his eyes averted.

      ‘Try to think. I appreciate how distressing this must have been for you,’ DC Marriot said, her voice soothing. She had a slightly pointed face, and small pointed ears, like a pixie. Her make-up was immaculate.

      Holly scowled, but allowed her mind to run back over the events of yesterday. ‘Milo always has rugby practice on a Sunday in the winter. Unless they have an away match, it’s always at Prince Edward’s park from two till four. It ran on a bit yesterday because one of the coaches was late, and then I had a coffee afterwards whilst Milo played in the clubhouse with his friends.’

      ‘So you left rugby at four-thirty, you said?’

      ‘Yes … I think so, because I remember hoping I wouldn’t catch the rush-hour traffic, and then realising it was Sunday so I didn’t have to panic.’ She managed a weak smile. ‘We stopped for petrol at the next service station. I know the route well, and I often stop there for fuel and groceries.’

      ‘Did you speak to anyone in the services, notice anyone paying you particular attention?’ DC Marriot pressed her.

      She shook her head. ‘No. It was just normal, quite busy but normal.’

      ‘Now just to recap – you didn’t stop at all when you left the motorway? You didn’t pick up any hitchhikers or see anyone on the side of the road?’

      Holly shot him a look of disbelief. ‘Don’t you think I would have mentioned that? Of course I didn’t see anyone else! Everything seemed to happen at once – the deer and Milo shouting, and the headlights of the car behind … I was just so scared.’ Her hands were shaking again as her mind replayed the moment they had left the tarmac, tumbling down the hill.

      They watched her some more, clearly waiting, but Holly had no more to say. Actually, she felt a twist of nausea rising in her stomach. It was just too weird. She felt a sudden urge to go back to ICU and reassure herself the boy was still there, still alive … Who the hell was the tailgating driver, and more to the point who was the child who had been left, unconscious and injured?

      DI Harper gave a barely imperceptible sigh. ‘We spoke to your husband …’

      ‘Ex-husband,’ Holly corrected wearily.

      ‘Sorry, ex-husband. Obviously he is away at the moment, but there is a possibility he might be able to help with our inquiries. He may recognise the child, perhaps.’

      Holly looked up, nausea fading away, as anger returned. ‘Tom hasn’t got a clue who Milo sees, or who I see. He’s the last person who would be any help. When I phoned him about the accident he just assumed it was my fault, and as soon as he heard Milo was given the all clear, he said he would carry on with his lecture tour. He’ll pitch up in a couple of days, I expect.’

      They both looked hard at her, and Holly squirmed. Too much information, but she was so fatigued that her mouth was running away with her. DC Marriot spoke again. ‘Mrs Kendal, can you think of anyone at all who you might have spoken to recently, who may have been connected with this child?’

      ‘No!’ She was surprised how insistent they were being. ‘I’ve been back